So Long, September
September was quite a month. It was a month that pushed me in and out of survival mode. It taxed my ability to breathe. How do you take deep, full breaths when the air is full of smoke and ash, there is a deadly and highly-contagious virus lurking, and the so-called justice system reminds you that it will not punish its agents for taking the life of beautiful black woman sleeping in her bed?
September was a month that didn’t surprise me, but still shocked me in my body. The fires were no surprise—they are a predictable symptom of the changing climate. And I know good and well that the anti-black violence in the U.S. policing system is not a failure of the system, but a successful enactment of what the system is designed to do. And yet a wave of shock ran through my guts, and tears rose quickly and from deep when I heard that no one would be held accountable for killing Breonna Taylor. But then my dear friend reminded me that we are calling for more. “Expecting more,” she said. And We talked about what Audre Lorde said about self-preservation and what we are doing towards our liberation. We remembered that “God is change,” (Parable of the Sower) and the question of accountability ain’t over.
September reminded me to breathe deeply whenever possible. It reminded me to feel gratitude and joy in my deep breaths because I am still here with the capacity to breathe, speak, create, and touch change. Despite fires, pandemics, unemployment, racism, etc. etc., I found joy and discovery in September. I reaffirmed my daily spiritual practice, I started learning the guitar, I got to revel in the divine pleasure of adoring another black woman, I took as many walks as I could, and I rested as much as I could. In September I remembered the courage of my ancestors. They survived the fucking middle passage! The words of my ancestors and elders became mantras.
So then, how do we take deep, full breaths when the air is full of smoke and ash, there is a deadly and highly-contagious virus lurking, and the so-called justice system reminds us that it will not punish its agents for taking the life of beautiful black woman sleeping in her bed? We find the moments of space and remember—repeat—follow—what Toni Cade Bambara said in her forward to This Bridge Called My Back, “The most effective way to do it, is to do it.” (Black Feminist Breathing Chorus)
Upcoming Events
One of the best parts of being part of BLAC is taking part in the community events and offering that are made possible through the hard work and planning of many folx. Here are some of those exciting offerings to stayed tuned for.
1. Monologue Workshop with Maribel Martinez -Date: TBD (Sign-up will be available soon)
2. First issue of BLAC Zine-Mid October. (Available for preorder now! It’s incredible! You are going to need a copy.) https://www.blacklightartscollective.com/zine-preorder
3. Halloween Reading- October 31st (Stay Tuned for more!)
4. Month of Mental Health Offerings! November/December (yoga, breath, singing, baking, EFT, feel good and resist the shit!)
5. Creative Nonfiction Workshop with Hanif Abdurraqib- January 17th! (Yoooooo! I’m still processing this!)
Follow us on Instagram and Facebook @BlackLightArtsCollective for updates and resources!
We still here ya’ll!
In solidarity,
Alicia
